Kris Taylor
by Land of The Delta Blues
Summary: What if Mac and Stella had a daughter and she worked at the crime lab?  If you remember the original story I wrote under this title, it's the same character basically but certain things are changed.  Just read the story to understand.
1. Dead Doll

**Plotline: **Follow Mac and Stella's daugther as she works at the crime lab. Flack/OC and Adam/OC (not same OC) other pairings: Mac/Stella, Danny/Lindsey

**Inspiration: **I'd created Kris's character a while ago but I got some roadblocks, lets start anew shall we?

**Rating: **T, some language.

**Disclaimer: **CSI:NY is not mine.

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><p>I had many ideas for what I'd be doing come three a.m. on a Saturday morning, I'm pretty sure standing over a disembowled stripper in her dressing room wasn't one of them.<p>

Don, my boyfriend and also a detective checks his notes, "Her name is Starlight, real name Bethany Johnson, another girl, Mariposa, real name Natalie Hernandez, found her when she came back from doing her routine. She saw blood seeping under the curtain that seperates Starlight's dressing table from the rest of the tables."

Don takes off to talk with the dancers while Mom, Lindsey and I continue to process the scene.

I take in the body quickly, her hair his light blonde, and blue eyes stare lifelessly towards the ceiling, the light blue dress and glitter makeup serve to make her look almost like a fairy princess, however even fairies have to die I suppose.

I begin rifling through her trash. "Somebody wasn't caught under her spell." I pull a torn glamour shot out of the trash and read the back, "You're nothing but a poser and a husband stealing whore. Signed with a butterfly." I grin before bagging it.

"Mariposa is Spanish for butterfly." Mom states plainly. "Ladies, I think we have our first suspect."

One hour later Don and I are in the interrogation room with a pretty Hispanic woman with glitter around her eyes.

"Natalie, you did leave this note in Bethany's dressing room didn't you?" Don asks.

She ignores him.

Don's about to try another tactic when I hold up my hand, "Don, can we talk in the hall?"

"What's this about Taylor?" he asks closing the door.

"She doesn't trust you." I state plainly.

"I'm sorry about that, but I don't spend too much time in strip clubs earning the trust of strippers. I fear it would make my girlfriend unhappy."

"You got that right," I elbow him playfully "I hear she might just dump you if you did."

"So did you bring me out here to tell me strip clubs are off limits or do you have some other reason?" he asks seriously.

"I want to try questioning her alone."

"You sure?" Don asks.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Okay, well I'll be on the other side of the glass if you need help."

With that he heads to the observation room and I return to the interrogation room.

"Where's your partner?" Natalie looks up from where she'd been analyzing the composition of the table apparently.

"We had a fight and he went for coffee." a little white lie never hurt anyone.

"He's on the other side of the glass," she doesn't sound angry though. "You sent him out because you thought you'd get me to speak easier."

"Well, it worked." I try not to make my tone sound too accusing, but still firm. I admit, I always try to see the good in people. "What did Bethany do to you?"

"I thought the note explained it all."

"Oh, so she really did steal your husband?"

"Yes, two months ago Garrett found out what I was doing for money to help take care of our daughter, I thought he'd be mad, but then I find out he's screwing the head bitch. I told her what I thought about that and I am now filing for divorce, but I didn't kill her."

"Really, if some blonde bimbo was..." I start only to find her laughing at me, "What?"

"Your hair, it's blonde." she continues laughing.

"Fine, blonde bimbo is a terrible term for me to use." I sigh, subconciously twisting one of my fine blonde curls around a finger.

"It's very pretty though," she wipes a tear from her eyes. "You know I never wanted to be a stripper, I wanted to go to college, get a proper career, but my family was poor growing up."

For some reason, although I don't know if she's using a ruse, I pity her, " How much will you get from the divorce settlement, will it be enough for college?"

"I don't know, after I take out expenses for my daughter, Catalina's three." she pauses to take a photo out to show me. In that moment, I realize that I seriously doubt we have our killer, but I may have made a new friend.

After following the typical protocol, the interrogation is over.

"Impressive Taylor," Don notes.

"It's Kris, and we need to talk to Garrett Hernandez." Despite my early morning wake up, I'm now awake, and am at 7.a.m. when we knock on Garrett's door.

The man answers is tall, clean cut, handsome and has a redhead hanging on his arm.

"Well, your ex-wife isn't going to have any trouble proving who the better parent is when it comes to sueing for custody." I can't help myself.

"That bitch sent the cops on me now. Tell the f***** whore she doesn't get one damn dime!" he begins to slam the door angry.

"Actually, we're here about your mistress, Bethany Johnson, she was murdered early this morning at the club." the redhead gasps, but still shoots Garrett a glare. He's probably fed her the bull that she was the only one a million times. "May we come in?" Don asks.

Garrett holds the door open, "Now Bethany was one fun girl, my wife was so conservative, nearly pissed myself when I found out the hypocrite was a stripper. But Bethany, she'd do anything...with anyone."

Well, he's not the most sensitive, but I'm not sure if that makes him a killer. "Where were you last night around three a.m.?" I ask.

"I was here."

"Can anyone prove that?"

"Yeah, Katja can."

"Who?" Don asks.

"That would be me," the redhead says, her Russian accent is thick. "Garrett and I were here all night."

"Well, I'm going to have to bring the two of you in for questioning." Don says.

By the time we get back to the station I'm pretty sure I've had enough of Katja and Garrett, so I don't fight it when he sends me to the lab.

"I heard you're on the stripper case," Danny offers as a greeting when I enter the lab.

"Yeah, so..." I have to hold my nose when I smell it. "Why do you smell like, pardon my expression, shit?"

"Your father, Hawkes and yours truly got some poor sap who may have drowned in a septic waste plant."

"Seriously?" I ask holding my nose.

"Would I make up something like that?"

"True, now go shower or Lindsey won't want anything to do with you." I instruct shooing him away. The smell lingers long after he leaves.

When I enter Adam's lab, I can see why the smell hasn't left me. "Why are you sifting through poop?" I sound like a goose due to the grip I still have on my nose.

Adam hands me a mask simaler to the one he's already wearing.

"Ahh, much better." I breathe.

Before I can say anything else another goose-like voice sounds behind us. "Have you gotten anything off of the victim's cellphone?"

I turn around to see a sight that comes close to cracking me up. Our fearless leader/loving father to yours truly is grimacing and pinching his nostrils shut to get rid of the smell.

"Not yet sir." Adam begins.

"Ass kisser," I mumble under my breath.

Dad shoots me a glare, "Adam, do you have any more of those masks?"

Adam looks panicked for a moment, "That was my last one."

Feeling guilty, I fork over mine, "I need to check to see if Sid has autopsied our stripper yet."

Apparently Mom has the same idea, and I meet her in the hallway on the way to the morgue. "So how did your interview with the girl who found the body go?" she asks.

"I don't think she's good for it, she was mad but she came right out and said that she didn't kill Bethany."

Mom sighs, "You know Kris, suspects sometimes lie..."

"Okay, I admit, I don't want her to be good for it. I might have kind of befriended her." I change the subject "Don's interviewing her soon to be ex husband. Apparently he was having an affair with Bethany, as well as some Russian girl named Katja."

"So we have a good suspect?"

"He claims he was with Katja last night, we'll see if his alibi has cracks, but I get the vibes that if he killed anybody it would be his ex wife, he couldn't stand her but claimed Bethany was fun."

We enter the morgue only to be met with the same odor from upstairs, except mixed with lemon aniseptic. It doesn't seem to faze Sid Hammerback, the coroner. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from both of the Taylor ladies?" he asks looking up from what I assume is the drowned sanitation worker.

"The dead stripper," I state bluntly. I admit sometimes my bluntness makes me a terrible conversation partner.

"Ahh, yes I got to the girl first thing this morning. Lovely thing, sad fate..."

"Sid, what did you find?" Mom snaps him out of his reveries.

He uncovers a body in the corner, "The cuts, although appearing frenzied at first are very methodical. Our killer knew a lot about the anatomy of the human body and the cuts made would have ended her life relatively quickly."

"Got it Sid, looking for a stripper in medical school." I repeat. I'm not sure why I assume it's a stripper, but neither Mom nor Sid corrects me. "I'll see if Don interviewed any med students." I walk out of the morgue and take my cellphone out.

"Don, hey it's Kris. Were any of the girls in medical school?"

There's a pause while he checks his notes, "Yeah, a Tea Wilmington. What are you getting at?"

"Bethany Johnson was killed by someone with precise knowledge of the human anatomy."

"Okay, we'll bring Tea in. You coming with?"

"Yeah, I need to get out of this lab."

"So Mac's victim really did drown in..."

"Yeah, human sewage. I'll meet you out front."

Twenty minutes later we're on our way to the apartment of Tea Wimington.

When we knock at the door, a sleepy eyed rehead answers the door. "Can't a girl sleep? Wait, you're the cop from the club."

"Yeah, and you're under arrest for murder, you can sleep in the interrogation room."

"I didn't do anything!" she bellows.

When we get back to the precinct, Don decides to let her stew in the interrogation room while we get coffee.

"She was flirting with you." Don states.

"What?" I spit coffee all over my blouse, which unfortunately is white.

"She definitely was," he hands me a napkin.

"No she wasn't!" I insist, despite beginning to believe him.

"There's nothing wrong with it, you're a very beautiful woman and..." he's trying to make up for rattling me, but I'm not paying much attention.

"I think I have a motive for the murder!" I shout.

"What are you thinking?"

"If Tea was flirting with me that means that she's probably at least bisexual. It also could mean that she likes blondes..."

"Like Bethany," Don adds. "And there's nothing that suggested Bethany swung both ways."

"Maybe she makes a move on Bethany and is rejected which makes her mad..."

"So she murders her." he finishes. "Lets go get our confession."

I watch from observation while Don grills Tea. I manage to convince myself that it's because my blouse is stained with coffee not because the female suspect hit on me. Half an hour later we have our confession.

After work the team gathers at our usual hang out spot, O'Shea's Pub. Yes, I am hanging out at a bar with my parents but being that it's more as coworkers, it's not as lame as it sounds.

"Kris cracked the case." Don states proudly.

I shrink back in my chair, "No I didn't, I never would have figured it out if you hadn't pointed out that she was hitting on me.

"Good job Kris." Dad congratulates me.

I decide to divert the subject from myself, "So how did the sanitation worker case go?"

"You won't believe this, but the guy's death was an accident." Hawkes states with a laugh.

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><p>So what do you think of this new format? Any ideas for cases in future chapters.<p> 


	2. Broken Dreams

Yeah, it's a crossover a bit, I couldn't resist adding one of my other favorites teams to the mix.

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><p>As wrong as it might sound, this morning I was actually hoping for a case. Luckily or unluckily, there is a benign power up in heaven who doesn't create murder victims just to entertain CSI's. So here I am sitting in one of those wheeled office chairs reading a dog eared copy of <span>Of Mice and Men<span>. Nearby, Danny tosses the rubberband ball him and Adam had created earlier into the air and catches it again. Adam is trying to show Lindsey some sort of technology which apparently doesn't impress her.

I sigh deeply which ends in a yelp, Danny didn't catch the rubberband ball this time and it hurts like hell when it hits my eye.

"Taylor, you okay?" Danny asks.

"Still breathing," I slowly bring my hand to my eye.

Lindsey and Adam walk over to check on me, having heard the commotion. "Let me see your eye," Lindsey tries to pry my hand away from my face. "Uh oh."

"What?" I ask.

"It's going to be pretty swollen."

"No thanks to your husband." I retort. "I guess I'll go get some ice."

"No time," Mom appears in the doorway to take in the scene. "I don't know what happened here, but we've got cases."

Out of the corner of my good eye, I see Danny hide the assault weapon.

"Kris, Danny, you're with Mac. Lindsey, you're with me and Hawkes."

"I really am sorry." Danny tries to apologize as we walk towards the car.

"Sorry for what?" my father, Mac Taylor, has very keen hearing. "Kristine, what happened to your eye?" using my full first name means he really wants answers.

I move my hand so he can see it, "Rubber band ball."

I think Dad suspects Danny's involvement, but he doesn't pursue it.

He slides into the driver's seat while I take the passenger's "Victim is Addison Jacobs the famous actress." he barely pauses to let it sink in, "Detective Flack is on Stella's case, so we got Detectives Goren and Eames."

I hear Danny grumble in the back seat. Ever since loosing a bet to Goren a few years back, he's held a grudge, not to mention he thinks Goren is completely insane.

I'll try to be a bit more civil. Both of my parents are friends with both of the detectives.

Fifteen minutes later, we pull up at the apartment building which reminds me a bit of a fancy hotel.

We take the elevator up to the penthouse. Once we're inside I take a look around. The late Ms. Jacobs is in the kitchen with a mountain of a man hunched over her. Ladies and gentlemen, Detective Robert Goren. When Danny see's this he grumbles something about helping with interviewing the staff, but Dad stops him, apparently that's my job.

As Dad and Danny enter the kitchen I find the living room where Goren's partner, Detective Alexandra Eames is interviewing the maid. Appearance wise, she couldn't be more different than her partner. It's the same personality wise, which leads to rumors about why they've been partners for so long. However there are certain things I prefer not to think about during cases.

Both Eames and the maid notice me at the same time and both stare at my eye while trying to hide it. "Mac sent me to help with the interviews of the staff."

"Actually I was just finishing up with them. Let's head back to the kitchen." she pauses to tell the maid not to go anywhere.

Wonderful, if I thought her scrutiny of my eye was bad, her partner will be ten times worse.

I finally get a chance to take a closer look at the crime scene, the late Ms. Jacobs is sprawled on her back, getting a closer look I realize she was pretty far past her prime which she was probably in back in the eighties. I have little time to contemplate how sad the situation is because our presence was immediately noticed by the others. Dad and Danny don't pay much attention to my eye, but like his partner, Goren tries to inconspiciously examine it.

"What happened to your eye?"

"What happened to our victim?" I usually answer questions that I'm asked, but I feel no desire to explain my wound.

"Strangled," Dad points at the red handprints on her neck.

I bend down to take a closer look at the strangulation marks.

"He had large hands." Goren beats me to the response. Normally I'd just brush it off, obviously he's been at his career a lot longer than I've been at mine. However, this time he manages to get under my skin.

I want to snap, but I realize that I'm almost letting the pain in my eye control my life. Instead I calmly examine the neck, looking for something that I can at least state first "He got her from behind." I point out "So..."

"Either it was somebody she trusted or she never knew the killer was behind her." that was Eames, apparently Major Case's golden team refuses to let me finish a sentence.

Realizing he's the only one who hasn't offered something to our analysis of the victim, Danny points out, "There's some kind of reddish orange residue on her neck."

"I couldn't identify it." Goren states.

"His nose failed us for once." Eames added.

One hour later, I'm back at the crime lab and the Tylenol I took for my eye has finally kicked in so I'm almost back to my old self.

I'm about to pay Adam a visit about the mysterious residue, when I run into Don, literally.

"Hey, watch it." he bellows, originally thinking it's one of the annoying techs that races around the lab.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"Kris, wait what happened to your eye?"

You'd think by this time, I'd just slap whoever asked me that question, but instead I just sigh and answer" Messer's little rubberband ball hit me in the eye."

"Ouch, do I need to have a talk with him?"

"Nope," I'm not about to let my wound cause rift between best friends "So how's your case...erm what's your case?" I realize I don't know anything about the other murder the lab is working.

"Our victim Brian Hill, was found in his dressing room strangled after he missed his cue to come on stage during the musical Billy Elliot. We're still trying to identify the mysterious orange residue on his neck."

"Flakey, reddish orange?" I ask.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Don looks puzzled.

"The same residue was on our victim's neck and the Goren sniff test failed to I.D. it."

"So our victims are connected."

Just then Mom walks in, "I was on my way to Adam's lab when I heard you two talking about our victims being connected." Then she holds up the rubberband ball "Danny confessed his involvement in the crime and turned in the assault weapon."

"Both of the victims have the same unidentified, flakey reddish-orange residue in their strangulation marks." I begin to explain.

"Good work both of you, I'll go talk to Mac about combining our investigations." Mom turns around to walk to Dad's office before pausing "Go see if Adam has identified the residue."

As soon as we walk into his lab Adam proudly states "I discovered the residues from your two victims match."

"We already figured that out Adam." Don responds "Do we know what the residue is?"

"Yes we do. It's a type of enviroment friendly paint. I have not yet been able to identify a source, but find the source and you'll find the killer." Adam sounds very proud of himself.

"Good work Adam." I give him a pat on the shoulder.

"I'm about to notify Brian's family of his death." Don tells me as soon as we're out of the lab, "Want to tag along?"

"Sure, why not?" I answer.

The drive is two hours of trying to make small talk, finally we arrive at the house of Brian Hill's parents.

Don knocks on the door and a fat middle aged woman answers. He flashes his badge, "Are you Tamra Hill?"

"Yeah, what is is this about?"

"I'm Detective Flack, this is Detective Taylor, is your husband home?" responds.

"You haven't told me what this is about."

"We have some bad news about your son, Brian. Can we come in?" I cut in.

"Yeah," she ushers us inside, a puzzled look forming on her face. "Sorry that the house is so messy, but we're repainting the living room."

Reddish-orange and organic I note to myself, but I'll need to get a sample to prove that it's the same paint as was found on the victims.

"I'll get my husband and sons, they're in the living room." Tamra makes a movement towards the door.

Here's my chance, "No, Mrs. Hill you really should be sitting down. I'll get them." I smile at her, the smell of paint is strong and I'm able to follow it to the living room.

Three men are painting, all of them are tall with large hands covered in paint, great. "I'm Detective Kristine Taylor with the NYPD, I'm here about Brian Hill." I hold up my badge. I notice a aluminium pan with the paint in it. I love these shoes, but I really need this sample. I take a step forward and "accidentally" bring my left foot down in the pan. "Oops! I'm such a klutz." I fake an embarrassed smile.

"Are you okay?" the older man I'm sure is Billy Hill, Brian's father asks. One of the younger men just snorts disgusted.

I take off my shoe and hold it as I follow them to the patio where Don and Mrs. Hill are waiting. Don gives me a funny look but doesn't say anything.

The men take seats, Billy on the wicker love seat with Tamra, and Don and I stand.

"When was the last time you saw your son?" Don asks.

"Last Sunday, he came over for dinner. Brian is a very good boy He still worries about his parents, even though he's famous." Tamra begins.

Don and I exchange glances nervously before he speaks. " We have some bad news. This morning, Brian was found dead in his dressing room."

"Oh my god!" Tamra buries her face in her hands and begins sobbing.

Billy takes his right hand out of his pocket and puts it on Tamra's shoulder in comfort. That's when, despite trying not to stare, I notice something that removes him from our suspect list. The hand is mangled and it's definitely a pretty old wound. The killer of both Brian Hill and Addison Jacobs left perfect hand prints.

I gauge the reactions of the two brothers, Donovan and Nicholas. Donovan's face remains blank and Nicholas has taken the seat on the other side of his mother to comfort her. Donovan's reactions could be a sign of involvement with the death, or it could just be his way of coping with the loss of his brother.

"Brian wasn't sickly, at least not that we knew of...I mean he hit his head when he was a little boy and had to get stitches but..." Nicholas begins.

"We think Brian was murdered." I state.

"Somebody needs to tell Nancy." that was the first thing Donovan had said the whole time.

"Nancy?" Don and I both ask at the same time.

"Nancy Richards was Brian's fiancée." Tamra says through her tears.

"We'll notify her." Don jots down the address, as it's given to him. "If you think of anything, give us a call." he hands his card to Billy.

As soon as we're outside I point to my shoe I'm still holding "I need a evidence bag."

Don just gives me a funny look.

"I had to get a paint sample somehow."

"I'm not going to owe you a pair of shoes am I?"

"Maybe," I admit.

He just shakes his head and retrieves a evidence bag, which I drop my shoe into.

"I'll drop you back by the lab with your shoe and go notify the fiancee." Don says.

I admit that I grumble a little but don't put up too much of a fight.

As soon as we're back at the lab, I retrieve my spare shoes from my locker and drop the ruined one by Adam's lab. "I have a sample for you to compare to the paint from the victim's necks."

"This is a shoe." he looks at me confused.

"Thank you Captain Obvious, I had to improvise."

"Where's Detective Flack?" he asks.

"He went to inform Brian's fiancee, Nancy Richards," I sigh "and left me here."

"Nancy Richards?" I turn around and come face to face with Mom, Detective Goren and Detective Eames.

"Yeah, why?"

" Well that's interesting, Addison Jacobs' daughter is named Nancy Richards." Goren responds.

"Another connection." I pull out my cellphone to call Don when it rings.

"Hey, Kris check this out. Nancy Richards is..."

"Addison Jacobs' daughter." I finish.

"Yeah, how did you..." he begins.

"I'm physic. Okay, fine Detective Goren told me."

He pauses before speaking again "She's showing almost no remorse over the death of her fiancee and she didn't seem to already be in a state of mourning over her mother."

"There's a lot of that going around isn't there?" I respond, remembering the reaction or lack of reaction of Brian's brother Donovan. "Any orange paint at her place?"

"No, you think she's involved somehow?"

I pause before answering "Or she could just be naturally cold hearted."

"Is the paint from the house a match to the paint from the victims?" he asks.

"Adam is running the sample right now."

Almost on cue Adam turns around to face us "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a match."

"We need to bring in Brian Hill's brothers and father for questioning in the morning," Mom states. "Right now though we all need to go home and get some rest."

As soon as I get home I pour myself a glass of wine and settle down on my couch with my laptop to do some research on the victims. However, tiredness takes over and minutes later with Addison Jacobs official page open I'm asleep on my couch.

I wake up the next morning in my bed, still fully clothed with someone moving around in my kitchen. It's either Don or an intruder, but I personally don't think an intruder would take the trouble to put me in my bed.

One hour later after a shower, coffee and breakfast we're back at the police station. Nicholas and Donovan are already in separate interrogation rooms while Billy argues with my father about how he's sure his two living sons are innocent.

"You're late for the beginning of the show." Mom states walking over.

"So what have we got?" I ask.

"Nicholas Hill asked for a lawyer and his brother Donovan Hill declined one." she states in response.

I walk over to watch the interrogation between Detective Alexandra Eames and Donovan Hill as Don returns with his second coffee slightly annoyed at not being able to help. The first thing I notice is that Donovan is in tears.

"I killed them." he sobs "my own brother...I killed my own brother and that woman. I killed them."

"We've got a confession, lets arrest him..."

I hold up a finger to silence him, "Donovan seems to have more to say."

Suddenly Donovan takes on a serious expression, "Nancy made me do it...we were having an affair and she used it as influence over me...oh god, oh god, oh god." he's back in tears as Eames snaps the handcuffs on him.

"Kris and I will pay Nancy a visit," Don says when Dad walks over.

The home of Nancy Richards looks like a palace and I admit I am at least temporarily awed.

"My shoes cost more than your entire paycheck," Nancy tries to impress me before turning to flirt with Don..."What can I do for you sweetheart."

"Let me read you your rights," he responds.

"And why would I do a thing like that?" green, cat-like eyes narrow.

"Because you wouldn't want to be accused of resisting arrest." I respond.

"I didn't do anything and my lawyer can tell you that!"

"He'll have to talk to us at the station." Don says, "Because that's where you're going to be."

"No way sweetheart," she jumps up off of her chair surprisingly agile and places a stiletto heeled foot in Don's sensitive area while at the same time dodging my grip...apparently she thinks she's 5'2" inches of fluid agility. However as Don swears between gritted teeth, she slips. In my sensible loafers I have the distance between us covered in seconds.

"Don't even think about planting one of those heels in any of my body parts..." I give her a glare as my hand latches tightly around one of her wrists.

Don stands up looking annoyed and tosses me the handcuffs which I manage to latch around her wrists.

"I want my lawyer," she pouts as I sit her in the back of the squad car.

Back at the station, Don takes off to find an ice packet while I watch as Nancy convenes with a short man who looks like he should be trying to scam some poor sap into buying a lemon car. However, instead Ray Scarlatti became a defense lawyer for rich offenders.

"Well, if it isn't Papa Bear and Baby Bear," he snorts as Dad and I enter the room to interrogate Nancy, "Why is my client here when she should be at home mourning the horrible loss of her loved ones?"

"Your client ordered her lover Donovan Hill to kill her fiancee and mother." Dad responds ignoring the lawyer's attempt to make us angry.

"Donny was a whack job..." Nancy begins.

"As your attorney I'd advise you not to answer. Where is the evidence to these false claims...Donovan Hill's statement? He had an unrequited crush on my client."

"Our techs are testing the sheets at Donovan's house where he claimed your client and him occasionally romped when his wife was away and the test results should be in right about..." I pause as Mom raps on the door. "Now."

"DNA results are back, from the stains on the sheets...we have secretions from Donovan Hill and Lisa Hill as well as from Nancy Richards." she informs us in the hall.

"Well," Ray looks up as we reenter.

"Your client lied to us about the affair."

"God, I told that idiot we should have used a condom." Nancy snorts.

"Nancy...don't say another word."

"Why did you ask him to kill them?"

"They both wanted me to work for a living...can you imagine, me a job?"

"I'm sure they can find you one in prison."

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><p>I'm not sure if I like the ending, but I've been working on this off and on since last spring so I wanted to get the chapter up so I could work on the next one.<p> 


End file.
